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The noises, faint, fleeting, whispered into her consciousness like wraiths passing in the night. Twelve-year-old Erin Willit opened her eyes to darkness lit only by the dim green nightlight near her closet door and the faint glow of a street lamp through her front window. She felt her forehead wrinkle, the fingers of one hand curl as she tried to discern what had awakened her. Something was not right . . . Annie Kingston moves to Grove Landing for safety and quiet--and comes face to face with evil. When neighbor Lisa Willet is killed by an intruder in her home, Sheriff's detectives are...

"Ever hear the dead knocking?" Novelist Darell Brooke lived for his title as King of Suspense--until an auto accident left him unable to concentrate. Two years later, reclusive and bitter, he wants one thing: to plot a new novel and regain his reputation. Kaitlan Sering, his twenty-two-year-old granddaughter, once lived for drugs. After she stole from Darell, he cut her off. Now she's rebuilding her life. But in Kaitlan's town two women have been murdered, and she is about to discover a third. She's even more shocked to realize the culprit is her boyfriend, Craig, the police chief's son....

All words fell away. I pushed myself off the path, noticing for the first time the signs of earlier passage--the matted earth, broken twigs. And I knew. My mouth turned cottony. I licked my lips, took three halting steps. My maddening, visual brain churned out pictures of colorless faces on a cold slab--Debbie Lille, victim number one; Wanda Deminger, number three . . . He'd been here. Dragged this one right where I now stumbled. I'd entered a crime scene, and I could not bear to see what lay at the end. . . . This is a story about evil. This is a story about God's power. A string of...

Something sinuous in the water brushed against Paige's knee. She jerked her leg away. What was that? She rose to a sitting position, groped around with her left hand. Fine wisps wound themselves around her fingers. Hair? She yanked backward, but the tendrils clung. Something solid bumped her wrist. Paige gasped. With one frantic motion she shook her arm free, grabbed the side of the hot tub, and heaved herself out. Paige Williams slips into her hot tub in the blackness of night--and finds herself face to face with death. Alone, terrified, fleeing a dark past, Paige must make an unthinkable...

As I drew, the house felt eerie in its silence. . . . A strange sense stole over me, as though Bland and I were two actors on stage, our movements spotlighted, black emptiness between us. But that darkness grew smaller as the space between us shrank. I did not know if this sense was due to my immersion in Bland's face and mind and world, or to my fear of his threatening presence. Or both . . . The nerves between my shoulder blades began to tingle. Help me, God. Please. For twenty years, a killer has eluded capture for a brutal double murder. Now, forensic artist Annie Kingston has agreed...